


Game Over

by vickydd



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: 13th Annual Hunger Games, 24 POVS, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Gen, Hunger Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4222650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vickydd/pseuds/vickydd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We may have been reaped for the 13th annual Hunger Games, but only some of us were playing the game." This story is a HG/PJO AU told from 24 POVS where our favorite characters from Percy Jackson are part of Katniss Everdeen's world. Please read and comment, bigger summary inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hazel, Octavian, Annabeth, Luke, Charles, Lou Ellen

**Author's Note:**

> Tributes, Ages, and Districts: Hazel Levesque 13, and Octavian Mills 17, (1 - Luxury) / Annabeth Chase 16, and Luke Castellan 18, (2 - Masonry) / Charles Beckendorf 18, and Lou Ellen Mage 12, (3 - Electricity) / Perseus Jackson 15, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare 16, (4 - Fishing) / Jason Grace 15, and Thalia Grace 16,(5 - Power) / Leo Valdez 15, and Khione Frost 17, (6 - Transportation) / Clarisse La Rue 18, and Grover Underwood 13, (7 - Lumber) / Drew Tanaka 14, and Chris Rodriguez 18, (8 - Textiles) / Travis Stoll 18, and Kathrine Gardner 17, (9 - Grain) / Frank Zhang 16, and Piper Mclean 15 (10 - Livestock) / Zoe Nightshade 14, and Ethan Nakamura 17, (11 - Farming) / Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano 17, and Nico di Angelo 14, (12 - Mining)
> 
> Previous Victors (In order of win): 1st – Hades Shade 18 (D12), 2nd – Poseidon Agua 17 (D4), 3rd Jupiter Olympi 16 (D5), 4th – Athena Gray 17 (D2), 5th – Mars Armed 18 (D10), 6th – Artemis Knight 14 (D11), 7th – Hermes Caduceus 16 (D8), 8th – Hephaestus Macine 18 (D3), 9th – Apollo Sky 15 (D1), 10th – Demeter Grass 17 (D9), 11th – Ares Marlom 18 (D7), 12th – Nemesis Venge 18 (D6)
> 
> Notes: Since it is the 13th Game, there is only one mentor (cause that's how they won okay) for each district. In this AU, there can be no volunteers. Some of the gods are genderbent because I didn’t think the publicist would be a man. No offense. I would like you guys to tell me who you would rather me kill. I will try to put every ones POVs in there, especially if they are part of the action taking place. My chapters will hopefully exceed 1k words and each POV will have a 500+ word length before being switched. If I want to fit 24 POVs, it won’t be easy, sorry. This AU of the pjo is all human. Panem is actually named Titan. The President is Terra Gaea and the game maker is Kronos Thyme. Enjoy and please review.

_Hazel_

If there was something worse than being of colored skin in a district full of white people, it was being an orphan in a district full of families. Sadly, both of those things applied to Hazel.

Hazel was thirteen years old. Her mother had died giving birth to Hazel and the Capitol of Titan had abducted Hazel and spit her out into District 1, the luxury district. She was born 6 months prior to the first Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games were a tradition used to punish the districts for a revolution they had caused exactly thirteen years ago. Twenty-four children of ages 12 to 18 were reaped every year and forced to fight to the death in an arena. Only one survived.

"There used to be thirteen districts," Ms. Minerva had told the class one day, "but District 13 revolted and was destroyed." Titan, which was the name of the country, had made huge advances in technology when they first took over North America. The Capitol was in control of Titan and all the districts. Some of the districts had huge numbers in poverty and lacked food. The Capitol? It was rich in every sense of the word. At least that's what Hazel understood.

Even though District 1 was favored by the Capitol, they only favored the people who made progress. One third of the district people collected rare metals, the second third used those rare metals to create all sorts of luxury products, and the last third made a living by selling things everyone needs. Any poverty in the district lived on the outskirts of the manufacturing area.

The district was large and just like the people, it was divided in three. The largest section found and manufactured all the goods and shipped them to the Capitol. The second largest was where the majority of District 1 lived. This was where Hazel lived in the district orphanage. It was in the center of the district, and all of the shops were found there. The mayor of District 1, Mayor Grant Heracles, lived in the big house that made up one side of the plaza. He was an arrogant man who had affairs with various women, none of them his wife, Hebe Heracles.

The smallest section of the district was a collection of big and luxurious houses. Only one of those houses was lived in. They were for the Victors of the games. Apollo Sky lived in that house with his little sister, Arty Sky. Apollo won the 4thnd Games at age sixteen. His parents had died in a freak accident when one of the jewelry factories caught fire. Hazel had been too young to watch his games, but Ms. Minerva had told the class all about him. He was now twenty-five years old.

You might think since Hazel was still thirteen that the orphanage would provide her with her needs. Actually, not quite. There was only one other orphan in the orphanage: Sammy Valdez **(1)**. Sammy and Hazel were fed two meals a day by a peace keeper who ran the orphanage. They were given two changes of clothes. They were given nothing else but a room in which to live in. They had one blanket each but no bed or pillow. After school (which was free), they were forced to work in the factory till six o'clock. Then a meal and off to bed. They never got lunch. Her name was in the bowl 6 times due to the need for tesserae, grain you got for putting your name in the bowl again.

For the wealthiest district (as Ms. Minerva had told them District 1 was the wealthiest) it didn't put all that much effort into orphans.

Sammy and Hazel made the best of it though. They laughed (thank Sammy for that), they did small jobs for the wealthier people in town and made a little extra cash, and they stayed together. Last Christmas Sammy had bought Hazel a couple pieces of drawing paper and some crayons and Hazel had kissed him on the cheek.

Although it wasn't the best life, Hazel sure didn't want it to be ruined.

**(1-Sammy and Leo can have the same last name because they are twins separated by the war)**

_Octavian_

"Oy, Dakota, get out of my way," Octavian snarled. Although he was the size of a tooth pick and barely 6 feet tall, Dakota listened to him. The guy moved to the side and let him stab the dummy that hung there.

It was better that way. Octavian knew that if they were going to start a fight, Dakota was most likely going to win. Plus, fighting wasn't his style. He'd rather talk his way out of trouble and talk his enemy's way into humiliation and cowardice.

Here in District 1, nobody liked a coward. In some ways, Octavian could be categorized as one. And that's why he was abusing some dummy in the middle of the training center. Because cowardice was a thing he despised, especially in himself.

When he was certain that the dummy was broken down into fluff, Octavian turned around and faced Gwendolyn Rashely.

"See? Any idiot can stab someone. It takes a person with a certain level of intelligence to stay alive." Octavian sneered at Gwen.

The two were in the middle of an argument about the Hunger Games and the statement that sent the two at each other's throats had come out of Dakota's mouth not five minutes ago.

"Anyone can win the games," he had said. That of course, started an uproar.

Gwen gave Octavian a big fat smirk. "An idiot like you wouldn't last an hour in those games. You don't even take them seriously. I bet if they let us volunteer they would hear you all over Titan."

She did a bad imitation of Octavian, "I volunteer! I volunteer!"

The people around them laughed. Octavian really wished he had an ounce of muscle to use against Gwen. But he didn't, not quite.

Octavian narrowed his eyes and steamed. "Oh, shut up!"

Gwen was about to say something else when Hylla, the best trainer in District 1, interrupted, "What's going on here?"

When no one said anything, she snorted. "Just as I thought. Now, if you don't plan on doing anything useful, get out."

Everyone obeyed. Hylla wasn't the type of person you wanted to whoop your ass the day before the reaping.

Yes, Octavian couldn't believe it. Tomorrow was the start of the 13th annual Hunger Games.

Octavian left the training center and walked back to his home. He lived with his Aunt Delphi in a small two story house. His aunt chose not to work at the factory and instead had her own shop in the plaza. A small perfumery that made surprisingly good business.

Octavian loved his aunt. She told him stories of what it was like before the war. He was only 4 years of age when he was left parentless and under the care of his aunt in District 1. She told him myths of gods and monsters and lives that were lost thousands of years ago.

When he finally arrived home, Octavian let himself in and called a greeting to his aunt before heading upstairs and into his room. He opened a closet door and quickly pulled out what he had prepared months ago.

A purple dress shirt and beige dress pants. Brown, clean shoes and a plain white undershirt.

This is what he would wear tomorrow. This is what he would look like when he stood in front of the entire country of Titan.

Octavian prayed to any god that could hear him that his name would be reaped. After all, it was in the bowl 25 times.

_Annabeth_

Miranda's kick nearly hit its target before Annabeth stopped it. She threw a right hook toward her opponents chin but found it blocked. She brought back her hand just in time to block the kick to her ribs and grabbed Miranda's foot. She fainted a punch with her left hand and pulled Miranda's leg under her while the girl was distracted. Annabeth let go of the girl's foot and tackled her.

Miranda pushed one of her knees between them and kneed Annabeth hard in the gut. Using the distraction to her advantage, Miranda soon had her fore arm to Annabeth's throat and her knee on her chest.

Annabeth however, saw the chink in Miranda's hold and slipped her hand out of the girl's grasp, punching her square in the face. She pushed her off and stood.

"You good?" Annabeth asked, the string of cuss words coming from Miranda signifying the end of the battle.

A moan could be heard from the girl on the ground. "The next time you ask me if I want you to go easy on me, ignore whatever comes out of my mouth and do it," she said. She slowly took the hand being offered to her and stood up. "Gods, Annabeth."

Annabeth chuckled and ignored the urge to say, "I told you so." Instead, she said, "Will do. You still up for another round?"

Miranda chuckled and brought her hand up to her eye. "I don't think so. I'll be lucky if my eye isn't purple tomorrow."

"I'm so–," Annabeth tried but her friend interrupted her.

"No, you're not, so shut up. Here comes Luke. Go show him what you can do." Miranda winked at her.

"He can do what I do twice as easily. Have you seen him? And don't wink at me. You know I'm over him."

"Whatever you say, Princess," Miranda smirked at me and left, still holding her eye.

Because Annabeth's uncle, Daedalus Chase, was the mayor of District 2, her friends insisted on calling her princess. Annabeth was no princess. She was a warrior. She understood why the Games had been put into action and didn't exactly agree. But she did agree that she was not going to die. If she were to be reaped, she would go for the win.

Annabeth may have spent half her time reading and daydreaming and the other half training and getting stronger, but all of her time was devoted to survival. It was true, she might never get reaped. But it was also true that her name was in the reaping bowl 15 times. To her, it didn't matter if she would never get reaped. It mattered that she did her best.

Annabeth's fatal flaw was pride, and anyone could see that.

"Annabeth!"

Annabeth turned to the sound of Luke's voice calling her. He was on the other side of the training room and was beckoning her over. She jogged to his side.

With him were a couple of their friends, Jake Manson, Lee Fletcher, Phoebe Hunter, and Nancy Bobofit. Annabeth didn't really know any of them very well and neither looked to. Luke sent her a smile.

"Princess," he winked at her, "You wanna show these losers how it's done?"

"Call me princess one more time and it won't be much of a show," Annabeth sneered at him. He seemed to accept the challenge and walked over to the armory. A couple seconds later he walked out with a sword and a dagger.

"Which one, Princess?" he asked Annabeth.

She didn't give him an answer and took the dagger from his hand.

Even if she was never reaped, it was moments like these that Annabeth lived for.

_Luke_

After almost beheading him, Annabeth managed a kick to his gut. Luke was pushed back slightly but quickly recovered. He ducked her next punch and swung his sword towards her thigh. She blocked and parried, panting. Luke wasn't tired yet and tried a disarming maneuver. Annabeth kept her hold on the dagger and fainted. Luke didn't go for the feint and hit the flat of his blade against her dagger, pushing her back.

Their blades were crossed, both pushing against the other with equal strength. Luke saw how her eyes widened at their proximity and almost laughed. He forgot that Annabeth had a crush on him. He didn't like playing dirty (Ok, maybe he did) but slowly brought their faces closer. They were an inch apart when Luke disarmed her.

Annabeth realized what had happened and glared daggers at him. "Son of a-"

"Now, now, Princess, calm down," Luke cooed, happy that he had beat her. He turned around to face his friends. "Enjoy the show?"

His friends laughed.

Out of nowhere, Luke felt an excruciating pain on his cheek. Annabeth had dove at him with her dagger and cut his cheek.

He turned around to face her. She was panting, slightly hunched over and there was murder in her eyes. "Do. Not. Call. Me. That."

Luke was outraged. "You little bitch! You'll regret that, Annabeth."

"I'm sure I will," Annabeth stomped out of the training room, throwing the dagger out before leaving.

"Luke! Are you ok?" Nancy Bobofit's squeaky voice asked.

Luke turned to face her, his hand holding his cheek. "I'm fine. Practice without me; I've got to talk to my father."

They called goodbye to him as he exited the room. Immediately, Luke went left. The training center was a five minute walk from his house. When he got to a big gray house that had a broken mailbox, he knocked.

Luke's mother answered the door. May Castellan let her son in with a smile. "Oh, Luke! Your home. There's a hot bath waiting for you up–"

"Where's my father?" Luke asked.

His mother's face became slightly nervous and she hunched her back slightly. "He, he's not home, honey. He had some work to do with the mayor."

Luke's anger boiled.

"Luke, honey, what happened to your cheek? Do you need–"

"No. Do you know where dad left his computer?" Luke demanded, trying not to yell.

You see, Luke's family was quite wealthy because his father was the Mayor's secretary. Because of this, Luke's family had a computer. Which was rare. Very rare.

"He took it with him, I think."

"Useless bitch," Luke muttered, low enough for his mother not to hear.

"But there's a bath for you upstairs, honey, just go ahead. Then we'll see what I can do with that cut," May touched her son on the shoulder.

"Don touch me," Luke exclaimed. He got out of his mother's grab and stomped upstairs. The bath was, indeed, ready for him.

Luke closed the bathroom door and took off his shirt. Something caught his eye in the mirror.

It was just one of his scars. He had plenty, thanks to years living under this roof.

The scar was thin and a lighter skin tone than Luke's usual tan. The girls Luke had sex with never really noticed, thinking it was his training scars. Tomorrow his name would be in the reaping bowl 28 times. If he went into the games, someone would notice his scars. But Luke didn't care anymore.

Nothing of the sort. Luke snorted and continued to undress, letting his thoughts run to his injury.

Annabeth Chase had opened a cut she really should have left closed. Luke might have been heartless at times, but Annabeth was like his sister. In fact, with the amount of women his dad slept with, Luke wouldn't be surprised if she was. But Luke said she would regret this and sister or not, he always kept his word.

_Charles_

Charles hadn't meant to become a thief. Really, he didn't. And this little plan of his really shouldn't have occurred the day before the reaping. Definitely not.

Selena didn't think it was a great plan either, according to the look on her face when he showed her all the broken weapons and tools Charles had managed to steal from the recycling unit at the junkyard of District 3.

Selena and Charles had been on a romantic walk through District 3's polluted plaza when his girlfriend thought it'd be cool to find out where all the junk that District 3 didn't approve of got thrown. Maybe, since Charles Beckendorf could fix almost anything, he'd be able to get them some electronic device from the capitol for free.

None of them could afford it anyway. Selena was seventeen and she worked with her family in her father's candy shop. This usually resulted in free candy and sweets on their dates. Charles could live with that.

Charles, however, worked for the Capitol, fixing broken electronics they sent back to get reprogrammed or fixed. Most residents of District 3 could only start working when they became nineteen. Charles was an exception. At their school they had tests determining what part of the district's labor you could participate in and Charles had passed in all categories with perfect.

Since the Capitol took a chance when they saw one, they immediately took him out of school and placed him in the system. He even got paid.

Charles didn't mind since it meant he could support his family. His dad still worked, but having 4 children was difficult for anyone. But he was still reaped. His name had 34 chances of being called.

"Charles Beckendorf! Put those where you found them right this moment!" Selena whispered, slapping him on the arm. Charles chuckled.

"Relax, Selena!" he told his girlfriend. "We can hide them in your basement, and I'll fix them up!"

"And if they catch us?" Selena actually sounded serious. "How are we gonna kiss with no tongues, huh? Beckendorf, get rid of it."

This threw Charles through a loop. She never called him Beckendorf unless he had screwed up big time. And the Avox (A person who serves the Capitol and has had their tongue cut off) comment completely turned his mood.

"I cant, ok? They almost caught me on the way back. You know the fence around the junkyard? Its powered."

Selena didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't have to though, because the next thing they both knew, a peacekeeper was walking towards them.

Selena nudged him furiously and Beckendorf had the green bag holding the broken weapons zipped up in record time. Selena tried to look casual and hugged him.

"I love the outfit you got me!" she said into his ear so that the peacekeeper, who already looked confused, could hear her.

"I'll take it, give it to me," she then whispered when she leant to press a kiss to his cheek.

Charles did as he was told and handed his girlfriend the bag, a fake smile plastered to his face.

"I'll see you later then?" he asked, unsurely.

"Tomorrow. Come to my house before the reaping," She said seriously, and Charles nodded.

"Will do, bye Selena," he said.

"Bye Charles," she replied with a sincere smile.

Charles never should've become a thief. As we all know, thieves usually get caught.

_Lou Ellen_

"Last reminder, class! Be in your finest clothes tomorrow. Girls, that means dresses and skirts. Boys, dress shirts and clean shoes for all of you. Class dismissed!" Ms. Elpis fit in right before the bell rang.

Lou Ellen would be lying if she said she wasn't the first one out.

She ran out of the school, it was the last day of class. The games would officially begin in a week and tomorrow was reaping day. Tomorrow was reaping day.

That terrified Lou Ellen.

Her name would be in there only once. But that was enough. She had turned twelve only two weeks ago and desperately hoped they didn't consider her old enough. Maybe she could lie about her age?

She could be pretty convincing. Her dad had never won a single argument against her. Her little brother, Butch, did everything she wanted him to do.

One day Lou Ellen had told him to never grow up. She had been ranting to her nine-year old brother about the Games. She was telling him how scared she was. She had made him pinky promise not to grow up.

"Cross my heart, swear to die, and pinky promise not to grow up, Lolly!" he had said. Lou Ellen had laughed. Her brother would never say her name right.

Since she wasn't paying attention, Lou Ellen accidently bumped into someone. She fell to the ground and looked for the cause of it. It was a girl with black hair and blue eyes. She wore a light pink slightly ripped pullover and denim pants that were ripped at the knees.

She was so pretty that Lou Ellen didn't know what to say or how to respond, sure her mouth hang open.

"Sorry! Are you ok, sweetheart? I didn't hurt you, did I?" the girl asked her.

Lou Ellen seemed to realize what happened and tried to say something. "N-No, it's ok. Yeah, I'm ok."

Her eyes caught on the army styled bag that the girl had. It was puke green and looked heavy.

"Oh, well, ok. Nice meeting you, sorry for that, bye!" the pretty girl left just as suddenly as she came.

To say Lou Ellen had a short attention span would be an understatement. As soon as the girl had left, Lou Ellen's thoughts on the reaping came back to her.

She didn't want to die. She didn't want Butch to watch her die.

 _Because your name is only in there once, you might want to relax,_ said the rational part of Lou Ellen's brain.

 _When you get picked, what are you gonna do?_ The rest of her mind chastised her.

Lou Ellen almost told herself to shut up.

She continued to walk somberly until she saw her brother waving to her.

"Wait up, Lolly!" Butch called out to her. When a couple kids turned to look, Lou Ellen's face heated up.

"Butch! My name is Lou Ellen," she emphasized the pronunciation. "Low! L! N!"

"Lollen?" Butch asked, scratching his blond shaved head.

She sighed and barely hid her smile. "I give up, little brother."

"I know you do, Lolly."

The two siblings shared a smile. Lou Ellen really hoped she wasn't picked tomorrow.

 


	2. Perseus, Rachel, Jason, Thalia, Leo, and Khione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet six more characters the day/night before the reaping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, another chapter =)

_Perseus_

“ _Perseus Jackson!_ ”

Percy flinched at the use of his real name and turned around. What he found made him immediately slump. It may have been the last day of school, but that wouldn’t save him from the beating he was about to get from Mrs. Dodds, the principal of District 4’s secondary school. She looked like Percy had singlehandedly ripped her leather jacket and fed it to the wolves.

“Yes, Mrs. Dodds?” He uncertainly put on his best smile. Even if he had done something wrong, surely he could get out of it.

“Mr. Jackson, is it wrong of me to believe that you called Mr. Tantalus an old sot?” Percy’s least favorite teacher asked him.

Percy’s face gave him away. The 15-year-old, soon to be 16-year-old, could barely keep in his sniggers.

“Mr. Jackson! It is no laughing matter. I am afraid this will be dealt with by the peacekeepers,” Mrs. Dodds all but growled.

Any traces of happiness escaped his mind. The peacekeepers would handle it? That was bad. No, that was horrible.

“But – But Mrs. Dodds! It’s the last day of school! You can’t do this!” Percy’s voice was overcome with fear and despair. If he was to be punished by the peacekeepers, it wouldn’t be pretty.

“I can and I will, Mr. Jackson. Come with me.”

Percy had no choice, Mrs. Dodds took his arm and led him outside. There, in the center of the school yard, was a post. The post where troublemakers at school got punished.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Rachel’s eyes were wide when she understood what was happening. She ran to them.

“Percy!” she exclaimed. Mrs. Dodds pursed her lips at the girl. “Mrs. Dodds, please, surely I could talk to my father!”

Rachel’s father was the mayor and in charge of the peacekeepers in District 4.

“Get out of the way, girl,” a new voice said. Soon, Rachel had been pushed out of the way. Mrs. Dodds handed me to the man who had interrupted.

He was large and meaty. He wasn’t wearing his helmet and Percy would’ve told him to put it on before his looks killed someone if he was in any other situation. The name plaque on his uniform said, _Gabriel Ugliano._

He had a firm grip on Percy’s arm and pushed him down against the beating stand. Before Percy could do anything idiotic – like run the hell out of there – Gabriel had his hands tied to the post.

“Please,” Percy tried, “I won’t do it again.”

Gabriel ripped the back of Percy’s green shirt off.

“Too late for that, punk,” the harsh words might have stung somehow if it weren’t for the pain that Percy felt the next second.

Again, the whip lashed onto Percy’s back.

By some miracle, the boy didn’t black out.

Although Percy could mainly only hear the slash of the whip, he tried to focus on something – a _nything_ else.

Rachel’s screams every time the whip smacked his back. The whispers of everyone Percy knew as he was punished for years of reckless troublemaking.

Percy would never say he deserved what he was getting. But he would admit that he had it coming.

After the 30th strike, Percy lost consciousness.

 

_Rachel_

Rachel cried.

It was all her body could really process without bursting into hot angry flames. After she saw her best friend being whipped, it was hard for Rachel do anything at all.

Slowly, she had pushed her way through the crowd and woken Percy up. She wasn’t surprised when she saw tears stain his cheeks. He would be an idiot if he hadn’t cried.

Steadily, and with a lot of Rachel’s help, Percy was able to stand up. The peacekeepers had already left. Mrs. Dodds was gone too. Rachel tried her best to not touch any of Percy’s wounds when she walked him outside of the school grounds. She and Percy’s school bags hung on her weak shoulders.

When Percy coughed, Rachel could barely bring words of comfort to her lips.

“Rachel,” Percy mumbled, hissing when they took another step, “the beach.”

Rachel understood and quickly took the two minute path to their favorite sector of the beach. It was quiet and secluded, and Rachel knew there was a sweet water spring where she could clean Percy’s wounds.

You must be wondering, this is District 4, yes? Aren’t you two careers, sort’ve rich, and probably really strong? Guess again.

Rachel may have been the mayor’s daughter, but the mayor was no father to her. She was welcome to live in the mayor’s house of course, but she didn’t. Her family had had a huge disagreement when she was thirteen resulting in Rachel abandoning her life as the mayor’s daughter and moving in with Percy, her best friend since she was eight years old.

Rachel never became a career because she saw the truth. Training for something that would just get you killed? Not in the list of things Rachel wants to do before she dies.

Percy had the same views. He might not have been a career, and he might not have been the healthiest person weight wise, but Percy was strong. He was the man of his family. His mother worked at the little candy shop in town and his step father was a teacher. None of them made all that much money. And when they decided to house Rachel too? Percy already had a little brother named Tyson. With the size of his family, tesserae was necessary. In fact, he pretty much got tesserae every single year.

His name was in the bowl twenty-two times. Rachel’s was in there fifteen times even though she was already sixteen.

“Rachel. . .” Percy’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. They were there. Percy detached himself from her and almost passed out again.

“Percy!” she yelled, removing their bags from her shoulders and placing Percy face down on the nearest rock.

Percy whimpered. Rachel wiped her eyes clean of tears and forced herself to think. What would help?

She scurried to where some open coconuts lay and filled one of them with water from the little spring she mentioned earlier.

The string of cuss words that left Percy’s mouth almost made Rachel laugh when she poured the cold water on his back. She didn’t.

This was her first look at his back and boy did it look bad. The skin was detached in places and Rachel knew it would have to be stitched. The blood washed away revealing red skin, irritated and bruised.

Rachel almost broke down into sobs again.

Instead, she continued the process of cleaning the wound. She told Percy a story while she did it. She did her best to keep him awake and not thinking about the pain.  

After a while, she sighed. “Oh, Percy. . . what did you get yourself into?”

Percy smiled at her. A half smile that looked more like a grimace because his face was plastered to a rock.

“You know you love me,” Percy mumbled incoherently.

Rachel wished it wasn’t true. She didn’t just love him, she was _in_ love with him. She wasn’t sure if he returned the feeling to the same extent.

Rachel leaned over and kissed him. It didn’t last very long, but it gave her a dizzy feeling that she enjoyed very much. When she saw the small smile on Percy’s face she was relieved.

They’d kissed before; short little pecks on the lips that left Rachel wanting more. She didn’t ask for it though, she didn’t want to ruin their friendship any more than Percy did. Percy broke the comfortable silence that had occurred.

“What are we going to do Rachel? Reaping tomorrow and I can barely walk. Even worse, how am I supposed to explain this to my mom or Paul?”

Rachel felt bad. She wished this hadn’t happened today of all days. “We’ll see, Percy, we’ll see.”

They shared a look that told them what the other was thinking. Tomorrow was going to be horrible.

_Jason_

Trying to find his sister among the crowds of people who hung together after school was not easy.  His sister was short, skinny, and the only way to locate her was to look for the color black. Sadly, that wasn’t as easy as his sister always told him it was.

For example, Thalia Grace always found her brother by looking for tall, blonde, and blue. Jason however had trouble with his mission when his sister always hung with people who wore dark, black, and blue.

He’d even proposed that Thalia dye her hair yellow so that it would be easier to find her. Instead, Thalia had spent their dad’s money on dying one piece blue. Their father was outraged.

Finally, Jason spotted her.

“Thals, get your butt over here!” Jason called out. His sister glared at him but he smiled when she listened.

Thalia narrowed her eyes at him. “Hello to you two, little brother.”

Jason almost did a face palm. “I am taller than you.”

“I am older than you,” Thalia sing-songed.

“Same difference,” Jason muttered.

Thalia snorted and imitated him, “Same difference.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Only if you do too.”

“The gods have cursed me,” Jason exaggeratedly looked up to the sky and shook his sister’s shoulders. “Why?”

“Cause, dimwit. Come on, you’re slowing me down.”

They walked toward District 5’s plaza. Thalia’s arm was around her little brother’s shoulder, although he didn’t want it there.

Jason looked his sister in the eye. She would turn 17 in December. Jason had turned 15 in January.

“Thalia, how many times will your name be in there tomorrow?” he asked. Apparently, he had caught her off guard because she removed her arm from his shoulder and turned stony faced.

“Fifteen. You?”

“Ten.”

“Good,” she leaned up to kiss his cheek. Jason would you usually brush it off and blush, but something told him it wasn’t the time.

“Did you see Dad’s new girlfriend?” Jason joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked. Thalia’s eyes lit up again and she made a face. “She could be from the Capitol, with her looks!” It may sound like a compliment, but it wasn’t. Not to the people in the districts.

“And her name! Ceres Weat!” Jason laughed. Capitol names were hilarious.

“She doesn’t have an accent though,” Thalia pointed out. Jason nudged her.

“Details, details,” Jason used the Capitol accent. When they finally got home, no one was there. Thalia went to her room and Jason headed to the kitchen.

They had a good life here in District 5. It wasn’t the best District or the richest, but generating all the country’s power had to be worth something. Jason opened the fridge.

Strawberries, vegetables, beef, and milk looked back at him. He grabbed the milk and poured himself some.

“Thalia! What do you want to eat?”

“Anything!”

“Come down here!” Jason told her.

After a pause and what sounded like a small crash of something falling, Thalia responded, “No, come up! I want to show you something!”

Jason took the two the two glasses of milk and headed up. When he entered her room, he almost laughed.

Thalia was dressed in a black short sleeved shirt and a navy blue skirt that started at her waist and finished at her knees, flowing outward. She wore her best black flats.

“How do I look?” she asked.

Jason did laugh when his sister twirled. “Like Titan Weekly material.”

“Oh, come on! They wish. What are you wearing tomorrow?” She asked.

Thalia and himself took the games sort’ve in stride. Their names were only in there the amount of times they had to be, why stress?

“Just my beige pants and dad’s old blue dress shirt, why?” he replied.

“If it weren’t National Death Day tomorrow, you wouldn’t be able to keep the girls away.”

“Sure, sure,” Jason chuckled.

After a while where they both drank their milk and watched Thalia play dress up, the room became quiet.

Thalia spoke out of the blue, “May the odds be ever,” she raised both her eyebrows challengingly.

“In your favor,” Jason finished it, a new smile forming on his lips.

_Thalia_

Nightmares, Thalia could handle. Good dreams? They terrified her.

Thalia’s dream-self looked around.  She sat on her mother’s lap in what looked to be their old house. Thalia was three years old again.

“Mommy,” she said, “Why is the Capitol such a big meanie?”

Her mother laughed. There was a purple drink in her hand. “Good question sweetheart. Why don’t you go find your brother and ask him. Mommy’s got to talk to daddy.” 

“Okeydokey,” she smiled and jumped off her mother’s lap. Her mom left, drinking her glass until there was no more liquid left.

“Jacy-on, Jacy-on! Where are you?” Thalia’s younger self looked for her brother. When she finally found him, he was crying.

“Jacy-on! What did ya do?” her baby voice asked.

When she looked closer, her little brother had bitten a stapler. Now, this was quite funny. But when it actually had happened, the blood sent Thalia running back to her mother.

Once she’d found her mother, the dream changed. She was twelve. Her mom had died in the revolution almost ten years ago.

Hera Hevans was about to pull a name out of the reaping bowl. “Zoe Styar,” the woman called out.

The crowd cheered. They were still under the impression that the games were a way to prove themselves. Thalia thought they were idiots, even then.

Thalia’s best friend squeezed her hand before getting up there. The crowd stopped cheering when they saw that Zoe was twelve. The dream changed.

It was tomorrow. Thalia’s name hadn’t been called. Neither had Jason’s. So why was there a peacekeeper pointing a gun at her head?

The moment she heard the gunshot she woke up. Her eyes popped open and her breathing sped up.  

Thalia hated to feel scared. She didn’t want to feel like the victim. Thalia Grace was many things, one of those was a predator. She was never the prey.

She liked to be powerful. Ironic, since their district specialized in power. When they did any team work at the District’s stupid school, Thalia was usually elected team captain. If a boy tried to take her title because of the overused “guys are better than girls” argument, Thalia quickly shook that idea out of them.

A small smile spread across her lips. She knew this isn’t the life she was supposed to live, she knew it was unjust, unfair, and uncivilized towards her, but since it wasn’t going to change anytime soon, she might as well try to control it for her own benefit. She and Jason would live long lives and laugh and have families. They wouldn’t let their environment come between what they rightfully deserved.

Curious, she looked at the clock on her bedside _._

_11:59 PM_

The clock blinked.

_12:00 AM_

It was officially reaping day. Let the Thirteenth Annual Hunger Games begin.

_Leo_

With a mother who fixed cars and a best friend who liked to help her, Leo usually felt pretty useless. Calypso and his mother hit it off like two old high school besties.

Funny, considering the age difference.

Calypso owned the district flowery since her parents had died and passed it down to her. She was 16 years old. Almost 17. Leo was only 15 but that didn't stop him from completely crushing on the girl who annoyed him to no ends.

"Cali, dear, could you get me that wrench?" Leo's mother asked.

They were at his mother’s workshop. Although most of the transportation district worked on trains and buses and air forces, a small portion of District 6 was dedicated to fixing and building cars. Cars weren't used very much in the Capitol. In fact, it was a wonder cars still existed.

To Leo, it was a godsend that cars still existed. Leo was very good at fixing things. If the Capitol ever let the districts mingle with one another, Leo would probably banned of talking to District 3s because of the army of machines he could make. Call them automatons.

Ok, getting off track there.

"Leo, do you know where the wrench is?" Calypso had abandoned looking through the tool box and asked Leo.

Leo pretended to be clueless, "Why-"

Calypso beat him to it. "Because I already have permission from your mother to slap you if you don't."

"Touché, in the cabinet, top right to your left," Leo smiled.

"Thank you," Calypso replied, following his directions.

Leo forced himself not to stare as she leaned over to give the wrench to his mother.

_She's way out of your league Leo._

_She's almost 2 years older than you._

_She’s really, really annoying._

_She gets along with your mom._

_She-_

"Leo?" Leo snapped out of it and turned to his mother.

"Yes?" He answered, unsure of why his mom might be mad at him.

"Make a trip into town and buy us dinner, will you?" She asked.

Great, he was errand boy, now.

"Okay, mom," he replied, slouching slightly. "What would you two like to eat?"

Calypso asked for a sandwich and his mother agreed. Wow, Leo was officially the third wheel.

He sighed and walked himself out. On the way to the district square, which was a good 15 minute long walk, he passed by his house to get some money.

His mother and Leo got by pretty well since there were only two of them and Esperanza had a moderate wage job, compared to most of her coworkers. Leo helped out wherever he could.

After stopping at his house, he quickly went to the sandwich place and got the two women their food. Since his mom hasn't specified in what he would be eating for dinner, Leo chose to have ice cream. He'd eat it on the way and tell his mom he had a sandwich too. It was about the same price anyway and he barely got any good treats. Tomorrow all the shops would be closed for the reaping.

Leo entered the Frost family ice cream parlor and looked at the different ice cream flavors.

"Can I help you?" A girl’s cold voice asked rudely, as if getting customers was a plague.

Without looking up, Leo replied," uh, yeah, I want a double chocolate cone, please with," Leo paused when he heard a sigh and looked up. "Oh. It's you."

In front of him stood Khione Frost, the frostiest bitch Leo had ever met. She was a couple years older than him and her dark black hair hung loosely across her light blue work top. Her blue eyes shone like the necklace from the Titanic. Not that Leo would know that.

Leo couldn't believe he had had a huge crush on this girl.

"Yeah, me. What did you want?" Khione spit the words at him in disgust.

They glared at each other. "Double chocolate scoop with sprinkles. Thanks."

Khione pursed her lips and turned, her hair slapping Leo in the face. She made her way to the storage room. Leo shrugged, ok?

He looked around and found a jack pot.

The temperature controls for the ice cream were on his side of the counter.

Leo almost told himself not to, but then decided he didn't care. A few seconds later, Khione returned with his ice cream.

"Eight bucks, loser. Pay up. Of course, if you even have that type of money," Khione sneered.

Leo handed her the money. "I am glad to inform you that I do, frosty. Good day."

Khione didn't reply. Leo left and almost burst into laughter. Her ice cream was going to be cream in a few minutes.

_Khione_

As soon as Leo Valdez left, Khione threw a spoon at the door.

The stupid boy acted like he didn't give two shits about her when last year he had been head over heels in love with her.

Oh, well, she thought, his loss.

No, Khione may have never liked the stupid boy back (he was nowhere near cute enough for her) but he had liked her, and that was something any girl appreciates. Especially when the rest of your family were idiots.

Khione's dad had left her mother during the revolution and soon after her dad had gotten a severe case of short term memory loss. She wasn't the oldest, only 17, but her stupid brothers acted like she was.

Do you know how hard it was to maintain a social life and run a business?

Not easy. Her name was in the reaping bowl 22 times and Khione certainly did not want to know what would happen if she was picked. Her family would probably not last a day.

None of her two brothers were eligible for the hunger games. One was 19 and the other 20. They spent their time working on airplanes for the Capitol. They barely got their family any money. The shop however, made good money.

Who didn’t want cold, sweet, frosty ice cream? Especially in the summer, the store was very successful. And Khione liked it that way.

Khione wouldn’t say she was very strong, but having a full plate for all your meals and carrying ice cream tubs didn’t make you the weakest person. In fact, when she flexed her bicep, she had more than most of the other girls at school. If she was given an option and if District 6 wasn’t so lame, she would probably be a career. If she was given the option, she might even volunteer for the games so that if she won, she’d have the rest of her life bought for her. Paid. Cashed. Etc.

If she was a Victor, she never needed to lift another pinky again. She could walk around, wearing extravagant dresses and never giving two damns about people below her, such as Leo Valdez.

She would be like a queen.

Descending from the paradise that was her dreams, Khione noticed something strange about her ice cream.

It was melting.

Khione felt like she would combust into spiky little icicles. That son of a filthy poor mechanic. He had the nerve to break the setting of her freezer.

Uggh. Khione went to work trying to fix it, when she finally finished, her dark hair furled and messy, her hand covered in grime, the doorbell that signaled a new customer rang. She looked up.

The town’s Head Peacekeeper came in. He smiled at her. She turned around and cleaned her hands in the sink. He shouldn’t be here. Why was he here?

She knew. But she refused to acknowledge it.

“How but some ice cream, sweetheart?” the gruff harsh voice of the man behind the counter asked.

Khione turned around slowly, her lips turned down in a frown. “What flavor?”

He leant over the counter and whispered in her ear. “I think you know.”

He was too close.

“Be at my place at 7. . .or else.” His breath smelled of alcohol. “Understood?”

Khione shivered, something she barely ever did. She was nearly immune to the cold. “Yes, uncle.”

When he left, sending a smile at her, she wrapped her arms around herself.

If it was the last thing she did, Khione would be queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you liked it and/ or would like to beta. I'll update soon.  
> Love,   
> Vickydd


	3. Grover, Clarisse, Drew, Chris, Katie, and Travis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> District's 7 - 9's day before reaping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, thanks for the feedback, enjoy!

_Clarisse_

Clarisse drove her axe into the base of the tree. She was tired. She was angry. She was hungry. And there was no way to get out of it.

Her name was in the reaping bowl too many times this year. Tesserae was a real pain in the ass when you had five siblings. Being the oldest definitely had to be the worst part of Clarisse’s miserable life.

There were many reasons Clarisse’s life sucked. Number one – she’s ugly. Scarred, bulky, and tall, her choppy dirty blonde hair always covered in grime. Number two – her family. Five siblings, a sick mother, and a peacekeeper father who was never around. And when he was, well, let’s just say him a Clarisse got along great – she still had a bruise on her jaw from the last time he decided to come by.

Number three – Her name, Clarisse La Rue, was in the bowl over 47 times. That has to be some sort of record. And if Clarisse was reaped, once again, the gods may be the only way they’ll survive.

The tree she was cutting into fell. It crashed with a bang. The Peacekeeper in charge nodded at her before blowing the whistle that signified curfew. She walked towards the exit path. A peacekeeper in front of her asked for her axe. She handed it to him. He paid her.

That was that.

Clarisse walked home in the cool shadow of the trees. Her home was small. Her mother, whom slept in the only mattress in the house, shared the bed with Jake and Nyssa, the youngest, only three years old and twins. Rita was seven, and she slept on the floor along with Troy and Remus whom were eight and ten. The reason Clarisse was eight years older than all of them?

Her father hadn’t been a git his entire life. That was only after the Capitol offered him a job. He left for training and he only came back to this house to sleep with her mother. Until she got sick. Now Clarisse had to deal with him twice a week.

She wished she didn’t need his stupid salary and his stupid job. Sadly, her siblings all had school and when they didn’t study they picked berries and sold them to the supermarket in the plaza.

Clarisse knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t win the games. Then again, she wouldn’t be alive to feel the guilt.

The strong girl walked inside. Her mind screamed when she heard her sister and her brother fighting.

“But you had the bread last time! I haven’t had bread in two months!” Rita yelled at her brother, her brown ratty hair tangled in her eyes as she pulled on a piece of bread.

“Well, it wasn’t my fault you ate mom’s dinner! I get the bread.” Troy shouted back, his blonde hair gleaming in the candle light. It was nearly nine PM.

Clarisse walked in and brusquely took the bread away from the both of them. It was barely big enough to fit in her hand. “Remus, do you mind going down to the plaza and buying us more bread? I’ll make soup.” Her brother nodded as she placed the currency in his hand. Only half of her pay left. 

“Troy and Rita.” They both looked at her like lost puppies. She couldn’t stand being mad at them. “This is the third time this week you’ve fought over food. The next time it happens, you won’t get any, understood?”

They both nodded. “Grab the onions from the cabinet and some salt and make yourselves useful.”

They both got to work, but just as Clarisse started lighting the fire, she heard crying from the other room.

Clarisse did not know how she would survive.

_Grover_

Grover couldn’t believe how many people actually wanted trees that wouldn’t be cut down, plants that wouldn’t be weeded, and flowers that wouldn’t be picked in District 7.

For example, for some reason, the mayor – an old lady with leathery skin and hair so blonde it looked green, bought a new plant once a week. Grover wondered how all that fit into her backyard, even if she had the largest in the district.

Grover was walking home when she saw her on her way to his uncle’s garden shop. She smiled at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to smile back. Mayor Medusa was a bit creepy. When he entered the shop, a couple minutes before she did, he looked around cautiously before calling out “Uncle Ferdinand?” and walking behind the counter.

“He’s not here, Grover.” Another voice answered instead, dark brown hair with a purple ribbon in it coming into view.

“Oh,” Grover felt his cheeks flush and he dropped his school bag on the ground. “It’s you. Did he say where he went? The mayor is about to come in.”

Juniper Bloom smiled at him. She was his age, with ringlets of brown hair, dark green eyes, and full pink lips. Her cheeks were always blushed and she was always smiling. “He went to buy, um. . .your clothes for tomorrow.”

Grover’s lips shaped into a sad _O_. “He’ll–”

Before she could finish, the bell at the entrance chimed. The both of them could hear the lady’s heels clanking on the floor.

Juniper smiled reassuringly at him before grabbing his arm and pulling him up onto the stool behind the counter with her. His uncle had put it there for when Grover had to help the customers.

“Hello, Missus Mayor. Anything in specific you looking for today?” Juniper said brightly, making him send her a glance.

The mayor was still ducked down looking at a certain orchid blooming, when she straightened up. “Mmmh, I don’t know. You wouldn’t happen to --” the mayor tripped into the plant behind her and quickly picked it up, brushing off the dirt.

Grover and Juniper shared a glance and suppressed giggles.

“Oh, um, excuse me.” She looked up, pushing her sunglasses up to her eyes. Grover was glad she always had them on. He’d heard stories about how strange that women’s eyes were. She used to live in the capitol before the revolution. “Just looking for the blue orchid’s I asked for last week.”

“One sec,” Juniper told her before jumping off the stool. “Did you see any blue orchids?” she asked him once he had gotten down too. He gave her a confused look. Then, his memory sharpened.

“Yeah! They’re over here.” Grover hurried to the place he’d last seen them, in the back of his uncle’s room. “Over here!” he shouted to Juniper, who was still a ways behind him.

“Grover.”

“What? I found the flower, Juniper.”

“Grover, look.”

Grover looked over, the tulip in his arms. “What?”

She motioned for him to come over, and when he did, he stopped dead in his tracks, almost dropping the flower.

On the wall next to a yellow dandelion, was a photograph of his uncle, his father - Pan Underwood – who died in the second games, and a man who Grover recognized instantly.

Ares Marlom, the fourth ever winner of the games, stood with the only family Grover ever knew. Juniper reached out and turned the picture around.

_Best friends – Ares, Pan and ‘Nandi_

Grover finally dropped the flowers.

_Drew_

**(Warning: Rape and sexual abuse. Not explicit.)**

Drew trailed kisses down his chest, she whimpered as he continued to roughly rip her clothes off, one by one. She kept kissing, lower.

She felt his hands on her.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to kick him in the soft spot and run.

But she couldn’t. Her family needed this money.

 _Lucy, Mitchell, Tommy, Maya_ – they needed her.

She let him continue to abuse her. His hands wandering – grabbing and pinching brutally.

“Little slut, aren’t ya?” the man murmured huskily in her ear. Drew shivered before he slapped her on the ass and pushed her down onto the floor of his bedroom. It was cold.

“Be a good little slut and suck my dick, why don’t you?”

Before she knew it she was choking, and crying, and she didn’t know what was worse. What was worse?

The taste. The smell. All the things that proved that this was real. That she wasn’t having a nightmare. He pulled her away by her hair and pushed her down to all fours.

He spread her legs and fucked her. No warning, no softness. In and out, in and out, roughly and quickly.

Drew bit her lip not to cry out.

This was her choice. She was doing this for a good cause. She had to get her sister something to wear for tomorrow. She had to feed herself. She had to do everything.

When he was done, he yelled at her to get her stuff and leave. That her pay would be on the table next to the door.

She left without another word. The money was there where he said it would be. She took it and exited into the cool summer night. She looked at the clock tower in town square. It was a ratty looking clock, the numbers rusted into near ineligibility. 10:30 PM.

All the shops would be closed. Minus one. The factory. Drew was nearly the only 14-year-old in the district who was not working in the factory. Her dad worked in the factory. Her 13-year-old little brother Mitchel worked in the factory. Even her 12-year-old sister had started work there this year. The putrid work of making peacekeeper uniforms, fancy dresses, and fancy suits. Anything that was found an error in would be sold to District 8’s people, for high and unimaginable prices.

When Mitchel and Lucy had gotten home from work today, Mitchel’s middle finger had a huge cut in it. Drew stitched it up and used the money separated to buy Lucy a reaping dress to make sure it wouldn’t get infected. A little bottle of antibiotics and a small tube of cream had cost nearly all she had saved from the last time she . . .worked. Her dad spent money on his liquor and his girlfriends. Her brother and sister made money to buy not nearly enough food. Their mom died giving birth to the twins – who were now seven. Her dad basically died with her. He used to be her favorite person in the whole world.

He bought her bows, dresses, and little baked goods. Drew wished she still had some of those, but sadly, she’d sold all of them at the black market when her mother died. Her name was in the cup 14 times. Her name should only be in the cup 6 times, but tesserae was a necessity when winter came, and the kids got sick.

Drew entered the Factory store. She went straight to the girls section. There, she found the dress she had been eyeing since she earned the money to buy it in the first place. Pink and glossy. A little white ribbon tied itself around the waist. White ruffles were on the neckline and the baseline. It was nearly exactly like the one her dad bought her years ago. Drew grabbed it and took it to the front desk. The girl behind the register was a classmate of hers: Pipa.

“Drew,” she said as she examined the dress, “you’re not gonna get away with not working here much longer. I don’t think your family will survive if you keep putting this off.”

Drew smiled fakely at her. “My family is none of your business. And I’ll get away with whatever the hell I want.”

Drew poured the money into Pipa’s outstretch hand, ignoring the way her classmate’s face frowned angrily at her. Drew didn’t care. It had been a long time since she cared.

She took the dress and walked out of that store with a sneer on her face. She wore the clothes; she refused to be the one to make them.

_Chris_

Chris Rodriguez would definitely never win award of the year for being a good person. No, that wasn’t a possibility. He stole, he lied, he gambled, he cheated, and he nearly always blamed other people.

Chris had two really nice parents. His mom cooked for the mayor and his dad was the Factory’s best warehouse manager. Chris never needed tesserae, he always had cooked meals, and he always had nice clothes. He was one of the well-off kids in District 8 and he knew it.

So instead of appreciating that and being a good kid, he thought it’d be okay to break the rules. After all, he never got caught. And he was good at what he did.

Some of what he did was good. He’d steal from the rich and then give what he stole to the Black Market. However, there was no denying he was a thief, and the whole district knew that by now. Which, if he wasn’t careful, would get him caught.

So, Chris always had an aching suspicion that one year, when he went too far, they would rig the reaping and he would be chosen to participate in the next games. Well, not one year – this year. He already turned eighteen in February. Chris never disliked one of his bad feelings more than this one. So, he decided if this was the last time he could possibly pull another prank or steal something big, he would go all out. And Chris already had his eyes set on quite the prize.

Although electronics were not Chris’s best skills, he had once rewired the screen is his house to skip all Capitol adds when he was thirteen. When his parents got home they had given him a hell of beating and made him undo all his hard work. Chris would practice everyday when his parents left for work after that.

So, now he had his eyes on a slightly bigger screen. Every year, they would play the same educational video at the reaping. All Chris could hope to do without getting caught until after the reaping was change up the sound a bit and put on an ad for something else. So that’s what he did at around 11PM that night, dressed in his black sweater with a hood (something that was strange to see in the district – hooded articles of clothing were reserved for Capitol people, but Chris had made his own. He was very handy.), dark ripped blue jeans, and a pair of old running shoes he’d sneakily stole from the black market. All the electronic equipment was kept in the Mayor’s house, so he hastily stole his mom’s keys to the kitchen and snuck away in to the dark.

Unknowingly to Chris, a peacekeeper saw his entrance to the kitchen through the camera situated in the front door. What he did inside, the guard had no clue, but the breaking and entering would certainly be paid for. That boy was a thief, and thieves weren’t the type of people you want to keep around in District 8.

_Travis_

Having a brother, Travis Stoll decided when he was at least nine, was awesome. Having a brother that looked identical to yourself, even if you weren’t twins, was even better. Although both of them had found it a bit annoying at one point or another (“Mom, that’s Travis.” “Oh, I’m sorry dears.” “You’d think she’d know the difference, she’s our mother.”), it was still awesome.

Connor Stoll was only an inch shorter than Travis, but the boy was sixteen – two years younger -  and Travis constantly worried what he would do when the one taking tesserae every year would be his brother. He’d have to get a job either in the fields or in the factory, sorting and packaging grains. Travis couldn’t keep still and he could barely count to 40 without losing count and focus. Grain? It’d slip right through his fingers and then he’d get in trouble. He didn’t even want to think about the year to come.

With the reaping the next day, he and his brother had quite a bit of work to do. It was the last day of school, and even though the reaping ruined everyone’s moods, Connor had forced Travis into asking Katie Gardner out today. Connor had been extremely persuasive.

_“What if it’s you they take tomorrow? You’ll regret never asking her. You should, even if she says no, at least try. You know she likes you, you two fight like an old married couple half the time and make gooey eyes at each other the other half.”_

As he said, Connor found his weakness. What if he never saw her again? Never felt her strawberry brown locks through his fingers or even attempted to kiss her sun-kissed petal soft skin? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Travis also knew that if he got reaped (with his name in the bowl over 38 times it was a decent possibility) his chance of survival would be puny. Unless the games could be treated like one huge deadly prank on the other players he didn’t stand a chance in the best case scenario which was. . .well, it’s the Hunger Games, he isn’t sure if there is a best case scenario.

Anyways, Katie was 17, and as far as he knew her name wasn’t in the bowl many times. She lived with her grandmother, Ceresa, whom had been the granddaughter of one of Titan’s founding fathers but expulsed from the Capitol after the revolution with all her belongings – an extremely lucky punishment. She was filthy rich. Katie helped out in the gardens with some of the more risky and harder to grow grains. Her hair was always messily out and falling around her face in loose curls. She was the prettiest flower in the garden. . .ever.

“Travis?”

Travis snapped out of his Katie stupor and turned to face the person talking to him, Miss Gadess. Travis realized the last school bell of the year had rung and his ass was still in his seat, nobody but him in the classroom.

“Oh, sorry Miss, have a good summer.” He blurted out as he got his things and left the classroom.

“Good luck tomorrow, Travis!” Ms. Gadess said as he exited and just as he turned around to reply he ran right into something.

“Won’t you watch where you’re going, Travis!”

Ah. . . he ran into Katie.

_Katherine_

Katherine blushed as she realized how she probably looked right now. The fall had sent her shirt riding up and her hair flying. At least Travis’s back had taken the fall of the two of them flying to the floor.  She sat up harshly and glared at the brunette in pain below her. She straddled him as he let out an airy moan of pain and placed his hands on her thighs while he mumbled something. She wiggled in his lap looking for her bag as she said, “What?”

“Stop moving. . . gods that hurt.”

Katherine blushed at what he meant and quickly stopped. “Well, then let go of me and I’ll get off.”

He opened one of his closed eyes at her and smirked. “What if I don’t want you to?”

“Travis!” Katherine growled in irritation as she got off and grabbed her school bag off the floor where _he_ ’d caused her to drop it.

“Sorry,” he said as he sat up, rubbing his head. Her concern for him outweighed her anger.

“You okay?” she asked, “Where’s Connor? You two are always together.”

“No idea, I got outta class late and ran into you.” Travis finally stood up, towering over her with his 5,10 height. He looked good today. He’d chosen to wear a blue shirt and it made his hazel eyes look darker. His jeans were ripped at the knees and his white sneakers could be mistaken for grey.

“Well, now you know to watch where you’re going.” She said, wiping some dust off his shoulder and readjusting her bag on her shoulder.

“Nah, I’ll never know how to do that.” Travis said distractedly as he swiped a strand of her from out of her eyas and behind her ear.

She rolled her eyes lovingly at him.

“What? It’s the truth!” He protested.

She shook her head at him. “Okay, Stoll, I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a nice day.”

Travis looked like he had seen something and remembered he had to do something. “Wait!”

Katherine looked behind her just to catch Connor whistling innocently. They were up to something.

“Yes?” she answered in doubt.

“Katie . . .I was, um, wondering if you’d like to do something with me sometime, maybe tonight?”

Katherine had always loved that nickname. She pretended that it annoyed her just for Travis, but truly, she couldn’t like it more. But she took a moment to process what he’d just asked. “Like, a date?”

Travis looked like he was thinking and yelling at someone behind her and found Connor a few ways away giving a thumbs up. “Yeah. . .like a date. Would you?”

Katherine took a minute to think about it. She’d had a miniature (okay, slightly huge) crush on Travis since he’d started calling her Katie. She wasn’t about to say no. . . but the Reaping.

Screw the reaping. “Yes. What are we doing tonight?”

Travis looked like someone had shocked him. “Whatever you want, Katie, my lady.” he said, smiling brightly and giving Connor a typical Stoll’s ‘I did it!’ face. Katherine shook her head and smiled just as brightly.

“Come on then, I’m teaching you how to garden.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know if u like it. next up is a couple favorites.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know who your favorite character was this chapter and if you'd like to see more. I have the next three chapter written, so I'll update when I get feedback.
> 
> (btw, looking for a beta)
> 
> Love,
> 
> Vickydd
> 
> PS: I apologize if there is a story of mine you would like updated, I'm working on it.


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